


Bleeding Colors

by ThirtyFiveAndNine



Series: Blind Love [1]
Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Blind AU, Blind Character, M/M, Not Baseball, San Francisco Giants, mentions of depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 02:21:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15809358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirtyFiveAndNine/pseuds/ThirtyFiveAndNine
Summary: Craw is blind, and expresses his emotions through the colors Belt describes to him.





	Bleeding Colors

“Can you dye my hair for me?”

Brandon looks up from the opposite side of the couch where he was reading the same book he’s been on for the past two months, reading glasses slipping down his nose as he stares at his boyfriend with surprised eyes.

“I’m sorry?”

“You heard me.” Craw huffs, turning his head in Brandon’s direction. “Will you help me?”

Belt closes his book and puts it on the side table beside the arm of the couch and adjusts himself so he was facing more towards his boyfriend. “Why do you want to dye your hair?” he questions, eyebrows furrowed. “Out of nowhere?”

Craw lowers his foggy eyes to his lap. Belt watches his fingers feel and pick at the sweatpants he was wearing, nerves fueling their movements. "Wasn’t outta nowhere,” the older man mumbles, “I’ve been thinking about it for awhile. I just didn’t know how to ask you.”

“What, were you-… are you scared of me?”

Craw huffs again, eyes rolling. “I could be blind, deaf, and mute and I wouldn’t be afraid of your soft ass.” 

Belt blinks, “Well that was just rude.”

Craw shifts so he was lying down on his side, knees drawn up towards his chest and hands under his cheek. “Nevermind,” he sighs, sounding frustrated and sad. It makes Belt frown. “Just forget it.” 

Belt runs his tongue over his teeth, debating if he should leave Craw alone for a little and drop it like he said, or keep pushing. He never said why, and Belt was honestly curious. He knew Craw couldn’t see himself, but even at thirty one, he was still so beautiful. Flawless in Belt’s brown eyes. His skin was smooth, his body was fit, his blue eyes were gorgeous even if they were covered by clouds, and his hair that nearly reached his shoulders was still so soft, colorful and strong. He couldn’t begin to understand why Craw would want to risk ruining it with possible bleach and hair dye.

That’s how he finds himself moving from his spot on the couch to the floor, right beside his boyfriend’s face. Craw’s eyes stare ahead at the TV, not paying him any attention. They close slowly and a gentle breath escapes his nose when Belt moves his hand to his hair, combing through with his fingers softly.

“Baby,” Belt says gently, “Tell me what’s going on in your head. I can’t help if I don’t know.”

Craw doesn’t speak right away. Belt waits, letting him take his time as he continued to stroke his hair. He knew it was one of Brandon’s favorite things, always requesting it when they lied together in bed at night, or when they cuddled on the couch for movie night. 

“When you describe colors to me,” Craw finally says after a minute or so, voice barley past a whisper. “I connect them with my feelings. Red is anger, yellow is happy, blue is sad, purple is love.” he explains, “Purple and pink are the colors I feel like when I’m with you. Yellow too. Orange.”

Belt’s lips turn into a soft smile. He drags his hand from Craw’s hair, down his arm to his wrist and gives it a gentle squeeze. “That makes me happy.” he tells him, “I love you too.”

Craw smiles faintly, but any trace of it is gone in a second. “White is weird. It sounds like something that can be good or bad. Like… white bliss for good, white pain for bad.” he continues, “Brown is icky. Sounds like I’m a bike left outside on a rainy day. All rusty… old. Broken.”

Belt’s smile shifts into a frown.

“Except for one shade of it,” Craw stops his words before he even gets to think of them. “Colors can have different shades, right? That’s what you said?” he asks, suddenly feeling the need for reassurance.

Belt nods, “Right. There’s millions of shades.”

Craw takes a pause to move his wrist from Belt’s grip, and instead lace their fingers together. He squeezes tight. “Whatever shade your eyes are,” he says so softly Belt can barley feel his breath on his cheeks. “That isn’t icky. That’s home to me… even if I’ve never seen it.”

The breath catches in Belt’s chest and he can feel it turning into a tight knot, moving up to his throat. His eyes suddenly burn but he blinks away the blurred vision and huffs a weak laugh. “They aren’t that nice to look at,” he tells him while trying to keep a steady voice. “You aren’t missin’ much.”

“Lying to a blind guy is really mean,” Craw jokes cheeks rounding with a small smile again. Belt laughs again, rubbing his thumb over the back of Craw’s knuckles as he tried to think of something to say back. He’s got nothing, so they sit in silence until Craw asks, “What shade are they in the sun?”

Belt swallows thick and starts to rip his mind apart, trying to find the right words. He’s never really seen his own eyes in the sun’s light, but he’s seen pictures of other brown eyes in the path of a ray. They were beautiful, like… like…

“Like honey,” Belt shrugs, “Gold-ish. Very… warm? I guess. Light. Maybe even like a fire.”

Craw’s smile grows a little wider with a hum. “Like whiskey.” he adds, making Belt’s eyebrows raise.

“I uh, I guess so.”

“It’s not a bad thing,” Craw goes to explain, finally opening his eyes again. Belt loved that robin’s egg blue, only imagining what beautiful shade hid behind it. “When I drink whiskey, it feels warm on my tongue and cheeks. It burns going down my throat all the way to my stomach. You make me feel warm, even just hearing you breathe.” he confesses, “Every touch you leave on my skin burns, but a good kind of burn. The kind that makes me feel alive… the kind I want more of.”

He leaves the younger man speechless once again; so quiet, Craw would’ve thought Belt had gotten up and left if he wasn’t holding onto his hand. He squeezes tightly.

“Plus, you’re golden to me.” he adds, “And get me drunk every time I kiss you. At least that’s what it feels like to me. I love it.”

“I love you.” Belt can’t help but blurt out as his eyes burn once again. “You’ve never seen me but you talk about me like I’m some… some poetry book. Or a painting.”

Craw brings his shoulders up for a shrug. “I don’t need to see you to know you’re perfect. The way you talk to me, the way you spoil me, the way you love me... Sometimes I wish I could see just so I could know what a real life Angel looks like.” he sighs, “But I’ve felt you. From your toes to your head, every feature on your face I traced with my fingers. You’re so beautiful. You are a masterpiece.”

“So are you,” Belt sniffs after a few beats of silence. “Do you think I’m lying to you every time I say how gorgeous you are?”

“I think you’re blinded,” Craw answers dryly, “But with love.”

Belt wants to yell at him that he’s wrong and possibly smack him on the ass for being so stupid, but instead he just shakes his head with a wet laugh and wiggles his hand free of Craw’s grip so he could caress his cheek.

“I’m not even starting with you on that.” he tells him, “It’ll just stall you more from answering my question.”

“My compliments to you aren’t stalling.” Craw narrows his eyes. Belt hums.

“I appreciate them, and I love you.” he leans in to press a kiss against Craw’s cheek. The older man sighs. “But you are stalling. Why are you so afraid of telling me why?”

Craw goes quiet again, and again Belt has patience and waits until he’s ready. 

“Black.” Craw says suddenly, voice dark. It makes Belt feel uncomfortable.

“What about it?”

“The way you describe it… Dark, cold,” Craw swallows, “Nothing. That’s… that’s how I feel.” he mutters the confession, “That’s what color I wanted my hair.”

Belt’s floored.

“Nothing?” he repeats. Craw nearly flinches at the sadness in his tone. “You feel like _nothing?_ ”

Craw closes his eyes again and Belt already misses the color. “Yeah,” he mumbles, “I don’t know why. I’m not even sure when it started. I just feel very… Hollow. Empty.” he shrugs, “Blackness."

Belt feels a silent tear run down his cheek and get caught in his beard. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know how.” Craw says truthfully, guilt weighing in his voice. “I didn’t want you to think it was your fault. Like if you weren’t loving me enough or whatever. You do. You more than do, and I promise I love you just as much back. I just… I don’t know,” his voice shakes a little, “I haven’t seen light in such a long time. It’s always so dark…. I guess it took over without me realizing it.”

Belt doesn’t know what to say. This was the last thing he’d expect to hear from his boyfriend, especially in a conversation that started to colorful. So yellow, and filled with pink and purple compliments.

“I don’t want you to dye your hair black.” he ends up saying quietly. He can see Craw’s face fall even more.

“Why not? If it doesn’t look good, it doesn’t matter. I can’t see people’s looks and glares.” he tries. Belt shakes his head.

“If black is taking over on the inside, don’t give it the chance to take over on the outside too.” he says wisely although his voice isn’t strong. “I can help you. You just need to talk to me when things like this happen. I want you to be yellow. Orange. Orange looks so nice on you.”

Craw blinks his watery pale eyes and stays quiet. This time Belt doesn’t give him time.

“Your hair is brown.” he reminds him.

“I know,” Craw almost snarls, “It’s gross.”

“No,” Belt is quick to correct him. “It’s a shade of brown. In the sun it splits into shades of orange and yellow. It almost makes itself look like a light shade of red. It’s warm. It’s comforting.” he lists, “It’s my home, and I don’t want to lose it to darkness.”

His words make Craw tense. The blind man licks his dry lips and then chews on them with his teeth. One tear escape his eye and rolls down his cheek until it’s soaked up by the couch cushion he was lying on. He takes a stuttered breath.

“I don’t know what to do,” he nearly whimpers, “I thought change would help.”

“It will, but it has to be positive. Something you want to make yourself better.” Belt coaches, “Not giving in to the thing that’s making you stray farther and farther away from yellow… away from me.”

Craw sniffles and opens his eyes again. He slowly moves his hand from curled against his chest to in front of him until he felt Belt’s cheek hit his finger tips. He caresses his boyfriend’s face at first, then traces over every feature with his fingers like he has millions of times before. His nose. His lips. His eyebrows. His long eyelashes. He feels purple and pink trying to break through.

“Help me,” he pleads, “Tell me what to do.”

Belt reaches for Craw’s wandering hand and holds it tightly in his own. “If you want change, we’ll dye your hair.” he says after a moment, “But let me pick the color. Let me bleed color back into you.” he almost begs. “Let me help you.”

It takes a minute or two of sniffling and silence, but finally Craw nods his head and squeaks out a soft “Okay.”

They go to the nearest store to buy the needed supplies. Belt picks what he wanted for Brandon, and even grabs a box or two for himself. Change isn’t bad if you make the best of it, so he thinks. He could use more colors in his life.

They’re in the bathroom for hours. Belt’s pulling strands of Craw’s hair gently through a plastic cap and brushing them with dye, following directions he found on his phone. The smell burns his nose and they have to turn on the vent to keep from getting lightheaded; it reminds him of Craw comparing his eyes to whiskey.

It burns, but in a good way, and Craw never fails to make him feel weak in the knees.

“What does it look like?” Craw asks after Belt let the dye set, washed, and dried his hair for him. “What color did you give me?”

Belt places his hands on Craw’s shoulders as they stared at themselves in the mirror. “A few,” Belt tells him honestly, looking over the blonde, nearly purple-red, and auburn highlights in his boyfriend’s hair. Almost like whiskey. “My eyes are in there.”

Craw smiles softly, creating a warm feeling in Belt’s chest. He leans over Craw’s shoulder to give him a kiss on the cheek. The older man hums.

“What color did you do yours?” Craw questions.

Belt smiles, gazing between his boyfriend’s face and his new highlighted hair in the mirror. It wasn’t much of a difference; but in the light, you could see the blonde and light shades of red that reminded you of an autumn flame. 

“Your natural color.” he tells the truth. “Shades of my home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes.  
> Thanks for reading. x


End file.
